


Let's Sync Up

by dorkburg



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Bodyswap, First post!!, Gay Michael Mell, I'll write more if you want, Mountain Dew, Only If You Want, Post-Squip Jeremy Heere, Squips (Be More Chill), if you want more ill add more to the tags and relationships and stuff, only if you want!!, there's not much to say tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkburg/pseuds/dorkburg
Summary: "Something about walking up to a mirror and not seeing yourself in the reflection is real uncomfortable. It makes you feel like you aren't there. Like you're a spectator in someone else's life."Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell didn't expect to wake up in each other's body that morning. But now that they have, they'll have to learn how to be their own understudy. Their own player two. And the thing about theatre is that, sometimes, just sometimes, you can become the character you're playing.(or: Jeremy and Michael wake up and everything seems a little out of place.)(alternatively titled: uh oh)tthis fic is old but im still tryna do something with it,, the style i wrote it in is one i dont really like anymore but i gotta stick with it so
Relationships: (temporary) - Relationship, Christine Canigula/Jeremy Heere, Jake Dillinger/Rich Goranski, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 42
Kudos: 106





	1. a wake up call

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I found this really old thing I wrote and knew I needed to post something on he(e)re, so i was like, why not? This is my first post on ao3, and this thing is pretty old, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

The alarm clock struck.   
Well, more like it annoyingly beeped until I was fed up with it enough to essentially break it.

I was _not_ a morning person. I never had been. So, rolling out of bed on Monday was just the same as any other day; uncomfortable and unbearable. Unbearably uncomfortable.  
I pulled myself out of bed, my feet meeting with the cold, hard ground. I was faced with a blur. I couldn't see shit! I rubbed my eyes, expecting to end up with my regular perfect vision again, to no avail. Standing up, I went and felt around the room for my phone. Speaking of which, where was I? Certainly not my bedroom. I had carpet, not this icy concrete flooring.

...I didn't have an alarm clock, either, now that I actually thought about it.

Maybe I was in Michael's basement. Potentially? If that's where I was, why couldn't I see Michael? Why couldn't I see _anything?_ I couldn't seem to remember sleeping over, either.   
I turned to where the staircase would be in Micael's basement. Luminescent light came from up above. Yeah, this was Mikey's room. With no Mikey, 'clearly'. I sighed, pulling my fingers through the top of my dark, short hair.

 _Wait._

My hair isn't this short. It's a wavy knotted mess, that almost always fell directly in front of my face. 

"What the _fuck?_ "

That wasn't my voice.

_Too low. Too loud. Too matter-of-fact._

It was one that was all too familiar. Dashing to the bathroom, I find a blurred, larger figure facing me. I could feel my breathing getting faster as I scrambled to find those thick lenses Michael Mell always wore. He always kept them on the bathroom bench, so it wasn't too much of a challenge. When I finally attained the frames, I found myself nervous to put them on.

_Too short._

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't a thing that happened to people. Right? I was just being hella irrational, right? The glasses slid on my face. Everything became even less unclear than before.

_That's not your skin tone, Jeremy._

_Your body type isn't this beautiful, Jeremy._

_You're not Jeremy, Michael._

Michael Mell was facing me in the mirror. That's what did it for breathing.

I gasped for air as tears of shock rolled down my face. I hopelessly stumbled to the ground, Michael's hands shaking.

_Incredible, ugly crying as Michael._

* * *

I wasn't used to waking up in my best friend's bedroom. Not like it never happened, but not like this. Not without him. Not with perfect vision. Not with pale ass hands.

That's what got me. The hands. They were bony, skeletal, almost. Completely unlike my own. Strange thing was, pulling out of bed and standing up also had me feeling heightened. Almost like someone was carrying me.

_I'm probably high. This is fine. Wait, no, I've been clean for a few months. What?_

I stroll over to Jeremy's bathroom, still somewhat confused on how I ended up here after distinctively sleeping at my place. It certainly wasn't abnormal, crashing at his home. It's basically a tradition at this point, but something in me figured that something wasn't right. But not in the way it was when I was stoned- my body could recognise that. My weird fever dreams weren't this clear, and we stayed up last night, trying random-ass sodas and speedrunning Zelda _in my basement._ Everything from last night was still left fresh in my mind.

Even walking to the bathroom was off-putting. I felt unsteady- almost like I was walking on twigs. Like my legs could snap in any second. I had almost made it over there and then... it finally clicked. The curls of hair falling into my face; pale skin that was littered in freckles and acne; the lanky, uncomfortable body, the increase in height and _not_ being legally blind... I wasn't me right now, was I? How did I not realise?

Something about walking up to a mirror and not seeing yourself in the reflection is real uncomfortable. It makes you feel like you aren't there. Like you're a spectator in someone else's life. Seeing Jeremy Heere, my best friend of twelve years, replacing me in my reflection made me feel numb. Like I was invading his privacy. Sure, I had always wanted to get inside him, but not like this. 

_Why are you in the body of the most beautiful person you know?_

_You don't deserve this, Michael._

Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Hollow emptiness filled my body. If I could even call it my own. I could of sat there for hours, even, if Mr. Heere, Jeremy's dad, wasn't calling for Jeremy to get ready for school. Calling _m_ e to get ready for school. And to that, I responded with a subtle okay. The less speaking I had to do, the better, right? It wasn't unlike Jeremy to be quiet, anyway. If I could just survive the day until finding Jeremy, it would be okay, right?

I pick up his phone and check the time. 7:10 am. I had forty minutes before having to leave on the bus. Only forty minutes to become as Jeremy as fucking possible.

_Adios, my precious PT cruiser._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hoped you liked the body swap shenanigans! i used to have a whole story planned out for this thing, so if you're interested in finding out more, I'll write more! I adore bodyswap fics, and personally think they're painfully underrated,,  
> oh fuck it I'll probably end up writing more at some point in the future
> 
> once again, thank you so much for reading and let me know if you want more!


	2. cardigans and christine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael hates cardigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats this??? i actually updated this??? yeah! the updates will probably tend to be pretty short and slow, unfortunately, because uhh 1. school and 2. my attention span is... bad ngl and writing too much is hard for meeee and i dont have any pre-made chapterssss  
> but, heere's chapter 2, and we got some michael, and some mr heere, and yeah! 
> 
> +90% cardigans im sorry

Cardigans are whack.

Jeremy would hate me saying that, but it's totally true. What's the point of it being open at the front? If you're gonna put something over your shirt to keep you warm, at least go the full way and wear a sweater or something; at least they can be like, somewhat fashionable, in the right circumstance. 

When I told Jeremy about my total distaste for them, he immediately began wearing them all the time. It was a joke, at first. He'd buy at least two every time he got new clothing and would tend to wear them around his waist most of the time, out of sight. His collection grew, over the years, and by the time high school started, he had at least thirty cardigans hiding in his wardrobe. Thirty overpriced pieces of fabric. 

The guy even started making his own. He bought a sewing machine literally for the sole purpose of making cardigans. Leading to his pride and joy, his woolly, long dark blue cardigan that he's always worn like a trophy. 

That's the best thing about cardigans. Jeremy. How much Jeremy loves cardigans. Jeremy looks good in cardigans. Jeremy likes making cardigans. Jeremy is the only reason cardigans are now tolerable.

But there's no way I'm wearing that shit. 

I watch Jeremy's reflection in the mirror copy my actions as I irritatedly tore off his cardigan. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as I thought it would be. I sighed, walking out of the bathroom, and falling back down onto his bed. His phone now said 7:44 am. 

Oh shit. I was totally gonna miss the bus, wasn't I?

A silent knock comes from the bedroom door, as Mr Heere's voice travelled to me. 

"Son? No judgement of what you're doing in there, but it's nearly time for you to head to school," He said. "Can I come in?" 

I choke out a soft yes as he softly turned the knob and walked in, taking a seat next to me.

Mr Heere was trying his best to be a better father to Jeremy. I knew he was. He finally put on his pants and went out to show the world that he could be good. God, he was finally actually getting over Jeremy's mom. 

"...Jeremy? You there, bud?" I zapped back into reality. 

"Huh?"

Right. Jeremy. Gotta get used to that.

"Er, I was just offering to take you to school for a change. Might be nice, y'know?" Mr Heere said to me, putting his hand on Jeremy's... my shoulders. 

He'd be so proud of his dad right now.

"Uh, sure, why not?" I murmured. Still wasn't used to Jeremy's adorably dorky voice coming out of my mouth.

"Great! This is great," He says, giving me a fatherly smile. "I'll meetcha downstairs then, bud." He awkwardly finger-gunned and shuffled out. I soon followed after him, but not before grabbing the old headset I got Jerm a couple of years back and wrapping them around my neck. 

Mr Heere's car was an old, well-maintained Toyota Corolla. Nothing like my old banged up PT Cruiser, at least. A few CD cases lay around the floor. I spotted some Marley and was almost tempted to put it in the CD player and jam to my regular morning grooves, but resisted. 

Be as Jeremy as possible, Michael. 

The car drive was a quiet, but comfortable one. Jeremy's dad had always made me feel like I was always in a bubble of safety around him. Sure, he had his flaws, but that didn't deny the fact he was a good person.

"If Michael or Christine wants, they're both free to come over this afternoon, just so you know," Mr Heere said hesitantly.

Shit. Christine. Jeremy's girlfriend. A living ball of sunshine; there's no one in the world who even mildly dislikes her. How could you? Her peppy, but not overbearing personality and talent made her a favourite among peers. After the whole incident, I really didn't think she'd give Jeremy a shot, but she did because that's just how sweet and caring she is. They've been happily dating for a few months now, and Jeremy couldn't be happier.

I wish I could say the same.

"Um, okay, M-" I quickly stop myself. "Dad."

Mr Heere raised an eyebrow, but chose to ignore it. Thank god. I softly hummed to the radio for the remainder of the trip, and by the time I looked up again, I was already at school. Couldn't really say I was psyched, per se.

I slid out of the car, waving goodbye to Jeremy's dad and heading on my way, my head faced downward. Just like Jeremy.

I also keep my head down, most of the time. 

Maybe he'd be more hunched up than me? I pushed his scrawny shoulders up. This was... awfully uncomfortable. I could feel his fucking bones pushed up against my face. No wonder Jere was always so cold. He was _literally_ a walking twig.

I maintained my posture as I entered the school halls, ignoring any eye contact at all, and trying real hard to remain unseen by our friends. That didn't exactly last long, as I was soon greeted with-

"Morning Jere-bear!"

Christine. 

This was the moment I remembered I was a terrible actor and literally the least hetero person on the planet. There's no fucking way I, Michael Mell, could be Jeremy Heere, Christine Canigula's _boyfriend._

_Fuckkkkk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! leaving a kudos or dropping a comment if you enjoyed would mean the world to me!! next chapter is gonna be jerm centred, because uh i love both the boys and they both deserve lots of attention mwah 
> 
> okay bye ily <3


	3. hoodies and mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy recounts his morning, and talks about michael's hoodie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi! this time around we got some jerm time! this was a little bit rushed, sorry about that, but i hope you do enjoy!
> 
> (im australian and writing mom in this So many times kinda hurt my brain ngl)

I adore Michael's hoodie.

Most of the time, I prefer to snuggle into a cosy cardigan, but Michael's red pullover might take the cake. I've only had the pleasure of wearing it a few times, given as he's in it ninety percent of the time, but the experiences I've had with the thing are unforgettable.

The first time was when my mom and I went shopping at Urban Outfitters, a week before Michael's thirteenth birthday. Back then, we were around the same height, so my mom got me to try it on to make sure it would be a good present for him. I can't remember the smell of it, but it probably smelt like sweaty teenage boys (and an overdose of deodorant) who had tried it on beforehand.

It was an XXL in mens.

 _Perfect_ _!_ I probably thought (ignoring the fact we were both smalls at the time, of course.) I distinctly remember trying to persuade my mom it was perfect by saying it would grow on him, and her denial. Michael's biological mom was tiny, after all, standing at a whopping 5'3". I'd never met his biological dad (neither had he, for that matter) but he was Ecuadorian, and from what I'd heard, they weren't exactly the tallest people either. My mom went for it anyway, and I guess it was lucky that Michael had ended up being a relatively bigger (compared to my skinny ass, anyway) 5'10" guy. 

The second time was when we got stoned in Michael's basement for the first time. We were fourteen. One of Michael's many cousins hooked him up with the stuff. We've both come clean off it now, after the whole SQUIP ordeal and when I found out what had happened with my mom, but that night was admittedly one of the best in my life. We spent the night chuckling and confessing some of the most stupid stuff; our filters were pretty much gone, but not so much that we were confessing like, serious stuff or anything. More quotable things like, "I'm a furry," and "Zac Efron looks hotter the more you look at him,". Those kinds of confessions. 

Michael also came out to me that night. 

I'm sure he would have it different if he could change it now. He'd probably want to tell me when we weren't high off our asses and actually stable. 

We lay on the floor next to each other, staring at the great nothing, until Michael sat up, and blurted out that all-so quotable line:

"Zach Efron looks hotter the more you look at him," 

I sat up too.

"Dude, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yeah, man," he replied. Then he took off his hoodie and threw it onto me. "See, that's how gay I am." he deadpanned. We burst out laughing.

For some reason. 

What did putting your hoodie on somebody else have to do with being gay, anyway?

Like, what the fuck did he mean??

What mattered is that the hoodie smelt like weed and bubblegum. It smelt like Michael, who even today still lingered a bit of the drug, although it was mostly replaced with the smell of sugary sodas now. 

I've only worn the hoodie twice. 

Make that three times, now. 

I was curled up on the floor, in his body, in his hoodie, in his bathroom. There was no way I could go to school. Not like the confident Michael Mell. I looked down at his hands. They were soft and welcoming, black nail-polish chipping off his nails. They weren't mine. Fidgeting with the sleeve of the bright hoodie, I eventually got up and readjusted his glasses. That was going to get some getting used to, too. My thought process was becoming a little clearer now.

_Oh my god._

I'm living in real-life Freaky Friday. Michael was probably in my body right now, struggling to figure out what to do, like me. I mean, I can't really say he's ever been a skinny, awkwardly tall white guy before. What if one of his moms spoke to me in Tagalog? They did speak it, like, on a regular basis, so that was probably going to be a lingering issue for a while. 

Wait. What if Mike checked my search history? No, he wouldn't do that. Nope. 

I shook Michael's... my head (?) and crawled up the stairs, anticipating the absolute worst. 

"Mikey, you're finally up! Took your ass long enough," Daisy, Michael's 'cool' mom said casually.  
In perfect Tagalog?

Wait. _What?_

"Your mother is just calling up Dr. Delancey to see if he's still available for the appointment you wanted this morning," she flipped the bacon she was frying over.

Appointment? Michael hadn't told me about any appointments.

Why should he need to tell me? Why am I thinking like this?

"U-uh, well, I'm not actually feeling great, mom, and uh, I might just stay home today-" I said, looking down at the ground as I did. Daisy's face expressed a bit of concern until returning to it's regular, relaxed state.

"Daria, cancel the appointment," Daisy shouted to her wife, in English this time, her voice booming and clear. I'd say it's probably who Michael learnt his powerful voice from.

She turned back to me, plopping the bacon on a plate and handing it to me. "This morning you get free. No school. I'll call Middleborough and say you'll be coming in late because of family issues," she glared daggers into my eyes. "Your ina will take you to school at twelve. No objections. Deal?"

I quickly shook her hand and retreated back into the basement, plate of bacon in hand.

I slid it into the bin by the bottom of the staircase.

Hopefully Michael's okay. He'll have to stick it out until I get to school (if he even went to school, of course). Mikey'll be fine.

I'm staring at the ceiling blankly when I realise.

_Christine._   
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to quickly disclaim something before going on:
> 
> the boyf will not be doing drugs whatsoever in present day. this is due to current personal family issues related to drugs, particularly weed, and it's a bit painful for me to write if it's not as a joke. there won't be any romantic scenes as they smoke or anything like that. I personally dont feel comfortable romantisicing drugs that have had effect on personal life. it might change in a few weeks, months. who knows. but for now its like this. sorry for the people out there who wanted that, but as far is it's concerned here, mike and jerm have been clean off smoking for atleast a few months.
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed, if you have any critisism, any complaints, feel free to let me know and I'll try to the best of my abilities to improve/fix it! Any comments, kudos, etc. is very much appreciated! love you all!!


	4. school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> michael is jeremy at school what'll happen now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bundle of mess, i haven't read through this and have completely rushed it, mostly because newsies has been on my mind recently and i wanted to write a bit of javid but i also wanted to get a chapter of this out so i'm super sorry! i hope you enjoy anyway!!  
> (this is mostly dialogue sorry lol)

Christine stood up on her tip-toes and gave me a peck on the cheek.  
This wasn't right. The feeling, the emotion... it wasn't there. I couldn't feel anything. Isn't that horrible? Christine loves Jeremy so much, but me?

I'm pretty sure I've heard people call me the _'gay_ _headphones_ _kid_ _that_ _hangs out_ _with_ _the popular group'._ I wish I was joking.

My mind lept through different ideas- dumping Christine, avoiding her; but I can't just kick her to the curb. I literally don't have a right to do that, anyway. I'm not Christine's boyfriend. Only Jeremy is allowed to make that decision, for himself (I'm not too sure why he'd do that, anyway. Christine is basically his whole world). Before I knew it, I was zoned out. Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy. _Magandang lalaki_.

Scratch that last part.

"Jeremy? You there?" Christine waved stiffly waved her hand in front of my face. I throw my head out of the clouds and looked back at her. Her nails were painted red- good taste. "You seem kinda... off today,"

"I'm fine," I said simply. "I like your nails, they're hella rad." 

Think before you speak, Michael!! Dumbass, giving yourself away.

Christine gave me a weird look and laughed. "Okay, _Michael,_ " My eyes went wide.

"Wait, you don't mean to tell me-"

"...I'm joking?" She said. "Seriously, what is up with you today, Jere?" 

Oh, you have no idea. 

"Anyway, yeah, my nails are painted red for autism awareness month! #RedInstead, y'know?" 

I nodded. Jeremy had mentioned it in passing a few times. 

Speaking of Jeremy, where the fuck is he? Of course, I just assumed he was in my body now- what if I had just taken over his body, and he was like... a backseat driver, being able to see, but not speak? That would have been kind of really shitty of me. 

_Sorry Jerm, if you're there._

The chiming of the bell rung through our ears as we went our separate ways. I scrambled through the front pocket of Jeremy's schoolbag for his schedule. He was forgetful sometimes, especially after the SQUIP, so he liked to keep it with him. It didn't take long to find that he had AP English. Which meant I had AP English. Which meant fucking it up. 

Which happened, of course. 

I sat at the wrong desk, for starters. It didn't come as a surprise- I completely gambled on where he sat, and I was wrong. However, I was fortunate enough to choose to sit where Madeline Auguste did. She and Chloe have had a rivalry for years now; both of them were absolute bitches sometimes, but Madeline was just a snake in general. Atleast Chloe is enjoyable to be around. Madeline? Takes everything as an offence, won't let anyone get in her way. Her stupid fake French accent is an offence to mankind, and the bitch had the audacity to call me slurs too. 

Multiple times. 

So Madeline hisses at me to get out of her seat, pointing at Jeremy's desk as she did. It was the desk in the back right corner, by a window.

Class started, the teacher rambled on, I messed up a shitload of questions, and before I knew it, it was over. Jeremy was still nowhere to be seen and after a few minutes of lunch, I started to get worried. The rest of the squad was less focused on Jeremy (which meant me, of course) and more on me (which meant Jeremy), asking how I was feeling and stuff like that. Christine must have told them about the whole awkward mess that was a conversation this morning, because as soon as I arrived, they bombarded me with love and support. 

"If you're feeling weird, we'll always listen," Brooke smiled.

"If you want to take a break from us all, that's okay," Christine assured.

"If you're worried about Michael, the office ladies said he'll be coming later," Rich said casually, his lisp prominent. 

I lifted my head from the table. Oh, thank God.

Thank Moses? I'm supposed to be Jewish now, right?

"Good, I was mad worried about him," I admitted. I really shouldn't have been, though. My moms let me take mental health days often, and this was obviously no different. I had that that appointed with Dr Delancey, though...

Christine yelped. 

"See? I told you he was using Michael-talk!" 

"You're in deep, Jerry," Chloe stifled a laugh, pushing a piece of her brown-blonde hair behind her ears, as Jenna nodded quickly in agreement. 

My eyebrows furrowed. Rich groaned in annoyance. 

"Dude, it's so obvious! You've been half-listening to our conversations for like, the past week, and every time we mention Mikey when he's not around, you go to another world! Plus, you've been wearing those headphones all day! I swear, it seems like you're always, like.." Rich wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

They're not suggesting Jeremy is into me, right?

"What Richie is trying to say here, Jeremy, is that most of us think you're thinking about Mell's ass all the time," Jake declared.

They're totally suggesting that Jeremy is into me. 

"Get me off the hook, you guys, I'm with Christine," I jokingly shook my head, and put my palm to Rich's face. "Talk to the hand, man." 

This wasn't very Jeremy, but just looking like him passed, I suppose.

"Speak of the devil," Chloe mumbled. 

I looked over to find myself standing at the doorway of the cafeteria, looking down, back hunched, fidgeting my fingers.

But I'm here, controlling Jeremy Heere's body.

Jeremy Heere is there, controlling my body. 

What kind of _Your Name_ , _Freaky Friday_ shit is this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! i promise you, next time will be better!! if you have any criticisms at all, feel free to point them out in the comments, as i'm always looking to improve! i hope you all enjoyed, and kudos or comments mean the world to me <3 ily all!


	5. meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boys meet. it's brief,,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! it's been a while, huh? i've had a tough couple of weeks, and i remembered just right now that i hadn't written anything for this, so bare in mind that i wrote this at 12-1am and that it's a short disaster. enjoy!!

_Abort._

That was the first word to flood my head once entering the cafeteria.

_Abort._

I could see myself, but it wasn't me.

_Abort._

What am I going to say to everyone?

_Abort._

What am I going to say to Michael, who is currently _no_ t Michael, because _I'm_ Michael?

_Okay, yeah,_ _definitely_ _abort._

I kept going, apparently, because sooner than later I found myself standing next to the lunch table, _next_ to myself.

"Hey guys," I said simply, giving a light wave. There's a light stutter on my words, but not noticeable enough to think there's something wrong.

I hope. 

Michael stared at me. He was observing, squinting his- or _my_ eyes and furrowing his eyebrows. I shuffled back uncomfortably, latching onto Michael's backpack's handles.   
"Yeah, no, this is weird. I'm leaving." Chloe said with a frown. She picked up her luxury bag off the ground and marched away. Brooke smiled sheepishly.   
"Sorry about that, Michael. She's been acting strange for a while now," I returned the smile. I hope I'm nailing Michael's grin right now; it's big and friendly, his dimples prominent on his face. I miss that smile.

Michael was still giving me the knife-like stare. He gasped, and pulling me by the shirt, he dragged me away. Under his breath he was mumbling something like _'This is all_ _wrong_ _,'_ or _'This_ _isn't_ _right_ _,'_ or _'Man,_ _I'd_ _really_ _kill_ _for_ _a slushie_ _right_ _now_ _.'_

He pulled me out of the cafeteria, and crossed his arms.   
"If you're gonna pretend to be me, you need to wear the fucking hoodie, dumbass!" He yelped. "Jesus, where'd you find that shirt?" I looked down at myself. He was right. I wasn't wearing Michael's hoodie. Instead, I bore an old dark grey shirt with _th_ _e_ _Rick and Morty_ logo on it.   
"I don't know, apparently you don't have any other shirts," I grumble. He gasped.   
"They're in the closet to the left! You know I hate Rick and Morty!"   
"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" I grunted back, making use of Michael's lower voice range for _extra_ impact.

"Well, I-"

A voice crack. I couldn't help but laugh.   
"This is so fucking weird, Mikey," I snort. "What the fuck is happening?"   
He looked down at me with my eyes, _my_ blue and hazelnut eyes, and smiled a smile awfully akin to his own, and said,  
"I have no idea, dude. But we'll figure it out," He takes my hand. "That's what best friends are for, right?"

Something about that felt... off. I shook it off and grinned as the lunch bell rung, a wall of students dashing (or avoiding) to their next classes. 

"Just be as player 2 as possible, okay? We'll talk about this later!" Michael gives me a wave and a pat on the shoulder and sprawled off to my next class. I grab his schedule. Visual Arts. How hard can that be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was super, super short but i dont have the braian compacticty for anything else rn,, ily!! thanks for reading! comments are always appreciated, and i'm open to any criticism! <3 ALSO no shade to people who like rick and morty, it's just a headcanon that mikey absolutely h a t e s It!!


	6. adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pretty boy but that's weird??? jeremy is straight??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to do another part in jeremy !! hope y'all enjoy !!
> 
> also, i changed my user from alwaysclueless to mushroomcore!! just letting y'all know 😌

Visual arts isn't really something I'd ever associated with- it was always theatre for me. Art, in general, is a subjective thing, so theatre, performing on stage, playing a role, is my form of art. It provides freedom, with a set of rules that allow imperfect, beautiful performances. Art doesn't have to be perfect.

The guy who sits next to Michael in his visual arts class, Adam, is an imperfect work of art. I watched as he sketched, a calm smile on his face. Dimples formed on his cheeks as he got further into his illustration, his pride radiating from him. He had a dark complexion, and had a similar body type to me, tall and twig-like.

That's kind of hot.

Which is strange, because I'm straight. I like girls. I'm certain of that. Even after thoughts I shouldn't be thinking, I know it's girls. I glance away from him to observe the ladies in the room. Sure, they were pretty, and I'm sure they were all lovely people- but it wasn't only the girls this time.

Next, I focus on the guys- It feels different. Once again, I could acknowledge that they were attractive, but it was different. I found my thoughts trailing off...

"Checking out the hotties, huh?" I felt a tap of my shoulder. Adam sat facing me. "Fair enough, honestly. I mean, you were supposed to be illustrated portraits of the person beside you.." he glanced down at my blank piece of paper, "but this class is a jackpot."

"I was just spacing out," I awkwardly chuckled in reply. Adam's eyes widened.

"Woah, you speak,"

"Huh?"

"I've literally never heard you speak before," he stumbles. "You're always just listening to music or hanging out with the popular kids, which I stay clear away from. This is the first time I've seen you without those headphones or that hoodie, honestly."

"Oh,"

Adam stared at his page.  
"I did you," he blurted. He handed me his sheet; it was a light sketch of Michael's face. It was almost identical.

"You're incredible," I gazed at it in awe. He was drawing me this whole time and I hadn't even noticed. God, I'm an idiot. I was surprised when he rolled his eyes in response.  
"Are you serious? Have you seen your shit? It's so cool. I'm just good at copying stuff onto a page, but you're so, like, artsy,"

I mumbled a thank you and turn away to look back at my page. Visual arts was a lot harder than I expected it to be. The teacher rambling on about complex theories that I don't have any mere comprehension of, the incredibly talented people around me kinda make me feel like _shit_ , and Adam.

It was strange; I had noticed Adam before, but it was never something like this. I've never really seen him this close up before. Attraction, but not to the level of a crush. Like he was a celebrity. He made me feel warm inside, and..

Fuck.

The ringing of the bell echoed through the school as I packed up and left as fast as I could, not caring to glace back at poor Adam. My eyes hyperfocus on numerous different people- there's a different emotion for each that I didn't notice before. I had a choice- go to my next class and worry about this the full hour, or skip and drag Michael into this.

Obviously the latter.

As soon as we lay eyes on each other in the hall, we start talking.

"I need to tell you something," We said in unison.  
"You first," Michael insists.  
"I'm sure yours in for important," I protest back. Michael rolled his eyes and grabs my sleeve, dragging me into the closest bathroom, the closest cubicle, and slamming the door shut.

"Why the fuck does Rich keep telling you that you radiate bi vibes?" He exclaims. Before I can answer, he continues. "Why didn't you tell me you were queer, dude?"

"Sorry, _what_?"   
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! comments make my day to read and kudos is always appreciated !!😸<3
> 
> also, just a reminder that this fic is smut-free !! alright, thatz it, ily and till next time !!


	7. HOLY SHIT CHAPTER UPDATE!! fuck rich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> michael and jeremy try to figure out what's going on and rich makes a joke that could ruin the ver little reputation jeremy and michael had LMAO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been. a while. uhh,, happy new year !! it's been like legit 6 months since ive updated this but im getting back into writin so i waz like,, why not, man? 
> 
> im long out of my be more chill hyperfixation but this was still fun to write !!

"Thank god, I thought some freaky sexuality shit was going on," Jeremy sighed in relief. Rich claiming Jeremy was bi was obviously just an assumption, but what he said about Adam is weird-- sure, he's cute, but I wouldn't say he's hot. 

"I can promise you, I do not find Adam Clay hot." 

"Then what is it then?" 

I winked, picking up my bag from the grody bathroom floor. Jeremy formed a wrinkled grimace. "I'm just saying, maybe you've got some freaky sexuality shit of your own happening."

"God, please don't wink in my body ever again," He groaned. "And, for the record, I didn't tell Rich anything about my sexuality. He's just making shit up, probably to get a kick out of me, but this time, I'm just not there."

I nodded. Something in me hoped, prayed even, that Jeremy would say that he had realised something, that maybe he wasn't straight, and that he had to think about it, but he didn't. Unsurprisingly.

"Oh, by the way," I perked up. "Are you and Christine still together?" 

"Yeah, as far as I'm concerned. Why?"

"No reason."

I didn't really wanna bring up the group's conversation earlier, about Jeremy having a crush on me. It was bogus-- I couldn't tell if Christine was in on the joke or not, but best not to bring it up now. 

We seperated and moved onto our next classes, a good thirty minutes late, but that shouldn't be a problem for me. After all, teachers never notice me coming in-

"Jeremy!"

"Huh?"

"Do you have a reason for your absence? Or do I have to send you to Mr Nickels again?" 

Right; teachers actually notice Jeremy, after the whole SQUIP sha-bang.

"I was uh.. I was at the bathroom, Miss." I answered. I realised that I didn't actually know this teacher's name. It started with like, an A or something. The teacher opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Rich broke the silence. Jesus, why does Jeremy have every single class with him? 

"What were you doing in the bathroom? Maybe hooking up with a certain michael-" 

I hear a wave of twitter notifications before the teacher cuts him off. Strange.

"Richard, can you just shut your mouth for a moment?" 

Rich doesn't end up finishing his sentence. Rich told me himself, he hates his full name. He said there was a reason for it-- I can't really seem to remember what, honestly.

"I was.. uh,, I'm on my period?"

Yeah, okay, nice one, Michael. Why is it always fucking periods? 

The whole class roared with laughter. 

"Very funny, Mr Heere. Take a seat. We'll talk about this after class, hm?" 

Of course my seat is next to Rich.

"You really screwed me over, man!" I whispered in irritance. 

"Relax, Jer-bear! I was just joking around. You seriously couldn't have thought that-" 

"I don't wanna talk about it." 

Rich snorted and handed me some study notes. The class was Ancient History. Jeremy's dad wanted him to do it, I remember. Jeremy was reluctant and ended up hating it; shitty teacher, shitty classes and shitty exams. I had never taken Ancient History a day in my life, but I felt the same. Like my dad, who, by the way, is long gone, forced me to do a subject I know I'd hate. 

Jeremy was in Math. Sounded pog to me, I could really use those extra math notes. Chloe isn't much help in that class, after all-- Jerm's actually good at Math, so he should be able to help at least a little.

My excuse for coming late to class was simply, 'personal reasons I don't feel comfortable sharing.'. It worked. She let me go, and it was off to the second break of the day. It'd be good to hang out with Jeremy and everyone else now that I've gotten a little better at playing his character. To my surprise, Rich waited for me outside the class, and we walked to the cafeteria together, making small talk. It was all relatively normal until I noticed the stares I was getting as me and Rich walked through the halls.

"Did I.. did I do something?" 

"No clue, dude. I have no idea where this all came from. It's like you took the SQUIP all over again." 

Two freshmen girls walked up to us, whispering and snikering. "Jeremy, is it true you hooked up with that headphones guy you're friends with? The one that smells like Lynx and sweat." The first girl said between laughs. Rude. 

"Michael Mell, right?"

"I-" My face heated up. Honestly, in the back of my head this is sorta fly, just because of how funny this all is, but thanks to Jeremy's instant nervous reactions, I ended up all messed up. "I didn't-" 

"Move along, ladies, Jeremy did not get with his best friend, just another one of Jenna's rumours." Rich shoved them away, and it hit me. The sound of Twitter notifations- Jenna Rolan was in the back of that class. Jenna Rolan would do anything to get scandals rolling. 

Jeremy is gonna be fuming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for waiting for me so patiently !! im not sure when ill update again but,, we'll see man. kudos and comments are always appreciated, as well as criticism and what not !! love you all !!

**Author's Note:**

> i hoped you liked the body swap shenanigans! i used to have a whole story planned out for this thing, so if you're interested in finding out more, I'll write more! I adore bodyswap fics, and personally think they're painfully underrated,,  
> oh fuck it I'll probably end up writing more at some point in the future
> 
> once again, thank you so much for reading and let me know if you want more!


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